


Sealed In My Heart's Core

by 1f_this_be_madness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Developing Friendships, Gen, bullying of a student by a teacher, mention of the Longbottoms' torture, mention of the Potters' deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville Longbottom is having a hard time in Potions class. What else is new? But seriously, Snape is being a real arsehole and Neville gets no marks for his work. Again. However, his day begins looking up at Lunch Period when he gets some friendly advice from a few unlikely sources.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sealed In My Heart's Core

Swirls of thick, cloudy, greenish smoke surround me as I cough my way through Potions class. I don’t know what I’m doing and Professor Snape is glaring at me with his cold empty eyes. Sweat trickles down my neck as I watch the others work—even Ron Weasley seems to know what he’s about, and that guy doesn’t do much work in class at all. He’s keeping pace with Harry, though. And of course Hermione is whipping through the steps like nobody’s business. Dean and Seamus are goofing off, probably trying not to engulf Seamus in flames yet again. Here I am staring at my sluggishly bubbling potion, reminded of Gran telling me to focus and work hard: “It’s your duty, Neville. You are a Longbottom and you must live up to the legacy of your father.” But why should I? If I grow up to be like him, maybe I’ll END UP like him and Mum, in so much pain that they can barely remember who I am. I don’t want to do that to my kids. If I have kids. What if I forget about them for some reason? And if I can’t complete a simple sleeping potion, how can I do anything to provide for my wife? Ha! What wife? What am I DOING with my life?!

“Useless as usual, Longbottom, I see,” comes Professor Snape’s acid voice. I shudder and curl in on myself. I can’t help it. You would too if you’ve been bullied every day for four straight years by Professor Snape. He’s so cold, so matter-of-fact, and his voice is like curdled milk and nails on a chalkboard at once. Trevor squirms in my pocket—even HE doesn’t like it. I often think he’d like to kick Professor Snape, but he’s only a toad, and I don’t want him to get hurt. If I could just remember the proper ingredients, and how to mix them…but it’s too late; with a wave of the professor’s wand my potion vanishes—first into fog and then nothingness. “No marks,” he says with his sneer resting coldly on me. Parvati Patel gives me a compassionate glance as I blink back tears. People think Harry has it bad with Snape. I don’t complain, but I think I may have it worse. Harry doesn’t let Snape bother him. I don’t know how he does that, but I just—I can’t help it. The professor’s words stab into me like knives, lodging in my stomach and lungs, so I’m nauseous and can’t breathe. Just like in DADA when Professor Moody performed the Cruciatis Curse. I still can’t—I can’t even think of that without the panic setting in. I remember. I still remember what it did to them…

At least, after THAT disastrous class period, the trio—that’s the way everyone thinks of them, as the Golden Trio—saw what Professor Moody’s demonstration had done to me. Hermione especially was really nice about it. And Harry—I don’t really know if he remembers the night his parents… I’ve never asked him, but something about the look on his face when he locked eyes with me just made me think that he understood a little bit. And Ron, even though he always just blurts out something, it comes from a nice place. I mean, he can be kind of a git sometimes, but he’s never been mean to me. It was him who told me I needed to stand up to people first year and if he hadn’t done that I wouldn’t’ve been able to help Gryffindor win the House Cup. That’s totally not why I did it, of course; but it was nice to be appreciated once just for being myself. But now no one’s noticing me. It’s lunch period next so I totally understand that, but I for one know that I’m not going to be able to eat anything. I still feel nauseous and have to take tiny sips of pumpkin juice to try and settle my stomach. A few seats down, Ron is loading up his plate with chicken AND beef AND pork. Hermione lets out a disapproving sniff and starts with a salad. Seamus and Dean are pelting each other with black beans and Ginny gives them a glare when one of their poorly-aimed ones lands in her long red hair. Then I hear,

“Oi! Pass some beans down here, willya?”

“You sure you wanna eat those, George? Remember what happened last time and I’ve gotta sit beside you in Herbology next period, ergh.”

“Shut it, Fred, why don’t you just go and sit next to Angelina then?”

“Maybe I will! Geroff of me you little piss ant—oh, sorry, Neville.”

“That’s okay,” I say quietly, moving my bag and myself out of the Weasley twins’ rowdy way. I expect the two of them to go right back to bickering, but the closer one—I’m PRETTY sure it’s George—notices the look on my face.

“Whoa, what gives, little man?” Little man? That’s rich, seeing as they’re both shorter than I am; but I guess since I’m the same age as their youngest brother I AM little to them. “Shut up for a second Fred, Neville here’s got his knickers in a twist.” Fred stops making faces at his twin.

“Oh, man. What’s wrong, Neville?” Both of them are looking at me now. I start to sweat nervously. Possibly a delayed reaction from class with Professor Snape, but it could also be because usually when people stare at the twins for too long they get their shoes filled with pond scum or something. I blink and hear Fred saying, “I mean, you’re not the chipperest guy in the bunch ordinarily, mate, but today it really looks like someone pissed in your cornflakes.”

“That’s a fantastic image there, Fred.” George says snidely. Fred smirks as he ladles soup onto his plate.

“I thought you’d like it. So c’mon, Neville, what’s up?”

“I…don’t wanna say. You’ll probably just laugh at me.” They look at one another with raised eyebrows.

“Who, us? Whatever brought you to that conclusion, kid?”

“Nah, we won’t laugh at you—we save that for our own siblings.”

“Well, um, Professor Snape Vanished my potion again today.” George whistles sympathetically.

“What a weasel.”

“What a wart. Seriously, Neville, how many times has he done that? You should tell Professor Dumbledore.”

“Oh no—I couldn’t do that. He’s so busy and I’m just one student anyway.”

“Bullying is a serious thing, Neville.” Fred earnestly says.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s one thing if you only mess with your siblings or the kids in your year—because they can always fight back. But if you’ve got a bully for a teacher? Not cool, man. We’ve gotta fix this arsehole.” The stony looks on both of their faces fill me with worry.

“No, no, don’t bother yourselves about it. I shouldn’t’ve said anything. It doesn’t really matter in the big scheme of things anyway, right, guys?”

“Well I dunno. Whaddaya reckon, Lee?” George asks Lee Jordan, who has just sat down and slung his bag under the bench.

“About what?” Jordan says with his mouth already full and dreadlocks swinging as he reaches to grab more food. “I’m starving. Pass me the pumpkin juice, willya George? Anyway,” he says between bites, “What are we talking about?”

“If someone is having a go at you, pretty often-like,” intones one of the twins, totally ignoring my hush-hush gestures. “And they’re in a position of power so you can’t do anything about it, wouldn’t you want your friends—who CAN do something about it as a matter of fact—to help you out?”

“Hell yeah I would.” Lee grins messily, his mouth full of chicken. “I’d get me mates to mess the bugger up. How you doin’, Neville?” he asks, just now noticing me, probably because I feel like I’m going to be sick again.

“Hi, Lee,” I murmur and continue so the twins can’t keep their dangerous line of questioning going any longer or further, “Hard day, huh?”

“You betcha! I just came from Care of Magical Creatures. I love Hagrid, man, but that dude has some pretty nutter ideas about what constitutes as ‘safe’ creatures. Have you met the Blast-Ended Skrewts yet?”

“N-no,” I stutter nervously. I’m already worried about that class. Just great. “What are they?”

“They look like giant shell-less shrimp and they’re bloody nasty, man. I have to go see Madame Pomfrey for this burn after I eat.” He rolls up his sleeve and shows off an awful red, pus-filled, oozing rash. The twins make gagging noises.

“Merlin’s pants, man, put your sleeve back down!”

“That’s disgusting, mate! Not while I’m EATIN’!”

“I bet it hurts like mad,” I wince sympathetically. Lee smiles at me.

“Thank you for your concern, Neville. Yes, it does smart a little, but hopefully Pomfrey has something to make it right as rain again.”

“No doubt. She cured Ron’s weird dog bite first year in one night—too bad she couldn’t fix what’s wrong with his head.”

“What’s wrong with his—?” I start to say but break off when I realise the twins are both laughing maniacally. Oh. Teasing the younger sibling, I get it. Ron hears because Fred has raised his voice and now the twin is dodging a loaf of bread that has just been launched in his direction.

“See, Neville? It’s okay for me to rag on him because he can fight back fair-and-square. With Snape, you’ve got no hope.” I nod and look down at my still-empty plate. Fred shoves me playfully in the arm. “Come on mate, you’ve gotta gimme more than that! We’re your friends, after all.”

“Really?” I look up at them and the twins are nodding at me, looking like a pair of bobble-heads. Lee grins and gives me a thumbs-up.

“’Course we are, Neville. Now, here, eat some peppermint prawns. They’re good for settling your stomach.”

“Thanks, Fred.” I say quietly. He grins and his twin says,

“He’s not Fred, I AM! Honestly Neville, you call yourself our friend? Can’t you tell I’M Fred??” I look back and forth between the two of them skeptically.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure you were sitting closer to me, George, until Fred moved over to grab the beans.”

“Oooh got heeem! Good one, Neville.” Lee gives me a high five like I’ve just done the greatest thing in the world. I smile tentatively. I’m feeling a bit better—because of the peppermint, probably, but also because the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan consider me a friend. Now I know that I’m not just a useless pudgy nuisance. I’m still apprehensive about what they’re going to do about Snape, though. Maybe they’ll forget about my problem if I ask them about Herbology lessons. I try this, but both of the twins groan so loud I swear the ceiling shakes. 

“Oh come on, Neville, not everyone is a genius with magic plants like you are.” I blush furiously and feel like sinking through the floor in embarrassment. 

“Look at that! It’s like no one’s ever given him a compliment before!” George says, kiddingly aghast.

“Seriously, man, you gotta hang ‘round us more. We’d get you used to hearing plenty of compliments—remember that great one about Harry, Fred? From his second year?” Lee asks. “What was it…?”

“His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad,” Blurts out Fred excitedly.

“His hair is as dark as a blackboard.” Returns George, ignoring the glare Harry is now giving him.

“I wish he was mine, he’s really divine,” Lee adds.

“The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!!!” All three end together, earning them a few wolf-whistles and catcalls before Ginny starts to jeer

“That’s great, my eardrums are bleeding now.” They all snicker as Professor McGonagall shoots a stern stare down at the group of us from her place at the head table. 

“I thought everyone forgot that little song,” I hear Harry mutter.

“Now thanks to my git brothers, it’s going to be on everyone in the school’s minds again,” says Ginny sympathetically.

“Nah, it’s that git Lockhart’s fault in the first place, remember? I don’t know the whereabouts of that wanker, but if I did he’d have a busted nose right now.” Snarls Ron. Hermione gives him a sharp look of disdain.

“Don’t be so violent, Ronald. Show a little respect. He was our teacher—”

“And a useless one at that,” sneers Ron. “Oh that’s right, I forgot, Hermione. You had a crush on him!”

“I did not!” she says, blushing to the roots of her bushy hair.

“Yeah you did,” says Ron. “I distinctly remember that note he sent you while you were in hospital—you kept it under your pillow. What was that it said?”

“Load of bullshit,” mumbles Harry again. I stare down the table at the three of them; I don’t think I’ve heard Harry say anything as bad as ‘bullshit’ in the four years I’ve known him. Ron, yeah, I knew HE was a cusser, but Harry? No way. This gives me some hope, actually; if the Weasley twins can get to level-headed Harry, they can probably get to Snape almost as easily.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this piece was inspired by a quote from Hamlet, Act III, Scene ii: "Give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I will wear him / In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, / As I do thee."
> 
> Thanks to J.K. Rowling for creating Harry Potter and his world.
> 
> Thanks to my boyfriend for reading this and saying that the dialogue was "spot on!" I don't know about that, but I appreciate it.
> 
> I know that simply purchasing his own wand could not have enabled Neville Longbottom to undergo such a complete change of character as he did after the fourth book. Thus, I wrote this little tale to shed some light on what could have been the beginning of his metamorphosis.
> 
> I despise bullying in all its forms, and know that there is always a way to do something to stop it. Informing a teacher, a parent, or some other responsible adult is typically the best way to go, but if that doesn't work for any reason...it's important to have friends that are willing to watch your back.


End file.
